


BE HUMAN

by oh_no_melon



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_melon/pseuds/oh_no_melon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dorian suffers a seemingly harmless glitch in the field, John discovers that time may be running out quickly for his partner. It leaves the question for both of them: what would a robot do with such little time left?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. File not Found

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to begin by saying that I haven't written a fan fiction in over five years and that I'm sorry.  
> I'm also incredibly new to this site and I'm sorry for that too.  
> But I'm very in love with Almost Human and this story hit me like a ton of bricks so here's hoping for a good ride! I'll try my best to update every week (Sundays) while work allows it!  
> Thank you all for taking a chance on me and this story!  
> (I will update tags and rating as the story goes on. It will not remain as it is now.)

When something is meant to be routine, such as a check-up or a stake-out, it often ends up being far from what was desired. A drug bust can go many ways because of the unpredictability of those behind it but there are still certain patterns that can be expected and therefor followed to an almost science. And for a bit, it is textbook. Arrive on the scene after the anonymous call reported strange smells and lights from a normally abandoned building on the east side of Sycamore street, go in quiet with the trained stealth and precision obtained by years of repetition, find the bad guys and neutralize the situation. The last two were the steps that always held the unpredictability in any case and no one could see what could potentially happen.

John Kennex, followed closely by Dorian, were moving on autopilot, baser instincts, and programs. They heard little at this point which eluded to few that could be hurt and that, to any policeman, was worth it. The odor was foul and the occasional bright light that streaked blinded all human eyes, making the MXs and Dorian lead down a gritty, stark hallway. Whatever was cooking needed a special kind of attention.

“Are you picking up anything?” John breathed softly, glancing briefly at Dorian. A flicker of blue, a shake of the head. Nothing, but silence was needed. John motioned for the officers behind him to move swiftly; he needed everyone to remain in formation in order to keep the safety-net of one moving entity secure. He would have kept their pace but in front of him, Dorian paused while the MX units kept moving. Dorian was blinking rapidly with his jaw clenched tightly. The circuits along the side of his face flared into an odd red but it was brief and his faced relaxed after.

“You ok?” Silence aside, John needed to know he was. Dorian licked his lips pointlessly.

“Yeah. Just a little hiccup.” Dorian shook off the ‘hiccup’ but John had a raised eyebrow of suspicion aimed at his partner.

“Hiccup? I learn something new about you every day.” He offered his typical egotistical, smartass smirk but Dorian missed it in favor of shielding John as the explosion ripped through the petite hallway. It wasn’t the large explosion either had experienced but it was enough to rattle the windows and make the foundation creak in frustration. When Dorian and John lifted their heads, glass shards falling from their hair, they heard laughter coming from the targeted location. The lights of the hallway came on and the other officers stood around them with the MX units intermixed. The human officers had smiles from laughter on their faces.

“False alarm gentlemen,” John heard Paul say from some distance but his voice drew closer until he was once again visible, “we’ve got a couple of kids and their chemistry set. It’s impressive, you should see it. Or are you two too busy down there on the floor?” As he finished his statement, Paul came into view and John wished he could hide his embarrassed face but settled on looking angered and agitated.

“That’s all this was?” Dorian questioned as if not believing Paul’s assessment of the situation. Paul’s face shifted from humor to annoyance.

“Yes, there are two kids in the next room with a chemistry set playing biochemists. Granted, they are still breaking the law but it’s nothing we thought it was. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” Paul was eying Dorian as he stood quickly and began pacing back and forth.

“No, no, no, no, no… there’s something not right about this.” Dorian’s voice was panicked which made John tense. He hadn’t seen Dorian act like this since he was unable to charge fully and though it was late, he had to have a decent charge remaining. Concerned, he approached Dorian.

“What are you getting? What’s making you so antsy?”

“Everything. It was quiet a moment ago but now it’s so noisy. Aren’t you getting any of this?” Dorian quickly side-stepped from John to the nearest MX unit who declined any transmissions, causing him to move to the next and the next with repeating responses.

“All your stupid voices sound the same!” Dorian yelled as he flung up his hands, clawed and ready to strangle, “I can’t be the only one hearing… it’s gone.” As quickly as his tirade had begun, it ended on those two words. The human officers looked at one another and John kept his eyes firm on Dorian. If the android had the capabilities, his face would have flushed from embarrassment.

“None of you heard anything? Nothing received?” John demanded of each MX but all repeated their answers. Nothing was heard. Nothing received. It was an awkward silence that followed as the officers detained the two youths and cuffed them for trespassing, potentially harming the public, and, as John would later put it, being dumbasses in general. It would make for an interesting story back at the precinct but it would be a hell of a lot of paperwork to file in the morning.

At first there was only the silence between the two. John focused on the road and Dorian flickered occasionally. This wasn’t so atypical of their rides back from a long night out but the way Dorian kept quiet and reserved was enough to unnerve John even slightly.

“What did you hear, back there in that building? After the explosion?” John broke the silence.  Dorian tapped on the side panel of the car door but kept his attention out the window. John looked from him to the road and back again to see if anything changed but Dorian remained quiet.

“Ok. Quiet time right? I’ll sit here. Being quiet. Listen to all the quiet I’m being. Quiet… quiet… quiet…” When the man wanted to, he was quite aware of how annoying he could be. In a burst of frustration, Dorian reached over and gripped the steering wheel. He turned it hard to the right and John was forced to curb the vehicle. A few honks and anger passersby later, Dorian let go of the wheel.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t ever do that again!”

“I heard every single voice I’ve ever heard since I woke up, John. Can you imagine what that would be like, inside your head? All at once, every single voice that I have processed, recorded, ever come across decided to start in unison. It was overwhelming and I didn’t realize until it was gone what it was. It explains why the MXs didn’t hear it. They couldn’t hear it.” John would have reprimanded him, called him out on his recklessness in the car but the way Dorian’s eyes held the weight of what happened and the honest look of fear made John halt the onslaught.

“Well, uh, things like that happen, right? Maybe you were taking in too much data there and you had an overload. We’ll have Rudy check on it when we get you home, alright?” Dorian didn’t look comforted; his face was turned away. John put a hand on his should to regain his attention.

“Alright?” he emphasized. He wouldn’t admit to it vocally but he was trying to reassure himself at this point, too. Dorian knew that. There was no way he couldn’t know that; John’s voice inflection, his heart-rate,  and body language told him he was concerned and that this was all to make himself feel better. But Dorian allowed him this; if John wasn’t scared, why should Dorian be?

“Alright,” he said, looking John in the eyes, “I’m sure it’s nothing. Too much data, right?” John smiled.

“Right. I can’t imagine what goes through your head.”

“More than what goes through yours,” Dorian laughed, feeling better about the whole situation. John rolled his eyes and pulled back into traffic.

“Maybe. But if you ever grab the steering wheel like that again, I’m unplugging you myself.”

***

He didn’t like seeing Dorian shut off in any way.  It made him uncomfortable and uneasy since he had had experience of turning off something and it never turning on again. Granted, Dorian wasn’t a microwave or a mobile dropped in the toilet but the fear was there and was amplified. Rudy was cautious in his work, cautious and thorough to the point of hysterical work conditions so it was best that John stay quiet and Rudy work without distraction.

Of course, this was John Kennex and he staying quiet for more than five minutes was a known miracle.

“So what are you seeing? Does he need an update or something?” John queried at the three and a half minute mark. Rudy glanced up at him, eyebrows knit with annoyance.

“Is there anything else you could possibly be doing with your time? Dorian here hasn’t had a routine check-up since he woke up. This could take some time and I want to go through as much as I can. You don’t want me to miss anything, do you?”

“Of course not. And that was your way of telling me to get out, wasn’t it?” John said, incredulous. Rudy sat straight and elegantly motioned his arm toward the door.  John faltered but scooped up his coat regardless.

“You will call me if anything happens? If anything out of the ordinary shows up?”

“You’re on my speed-dial.”

“Thanks.” John gave one last look at Dorian, eyes black and face lax, before stepping out.  With nothing else to do and feeling a tad melancholy without his usual shadow, John found himself at headquarters quicker than he anticipated for a man who was now off duty.

Most of the night crew were beginning their shifts as the early evening waned on. He acknowledged the few officers who greeted him but few were on a first name basis with him, or barely a last name basis. Stahl and Paul were off by this time which gave him no familiar faces to converse with but Maldonado, with her stick-to-itiveness, who remained at her desk flipping through various reports. Could he do work instead? Could he go to a bar and relax? Not tonight. He needed company even if he was reserved about it. There was no way he’d let it slip that he was even a tad bit lonely.

He walked into her office without the preamble of a knock and she hardly glanced up by the time he sat down in front of her desk. Her MX was down in the lower levels charging since she too would be off for the night soon enough. She looked to the door expecting Dorian to follow.

“Where’s your partner?”

“At Rudy’s getting his nuts and bolts checked out. No pun intended.” He smirked. She let out an exasperated laugh. Inside, John was beaming. Getting her to laugh was close to getting a trophy and if he could succeed, it was a good night. The atmosphere relaxed between the two so as he sat across from her, she slid her tablet across the surface toward him.

“The file on those kids you found this evening. Take a look.”

He browsed, noting pinpoints here and there. Just a couple of post-high school kids in a dark building with a lot of weird chemicals and absolutely no reservation. Nothing too interesting at all. The chemicals themselves were very dull; households with maybe something they obtained from the internet. He scanned a moment longer to check for the compounds needed for metal meth but found nothing resembling.

“Maybe I’m just tired but I feel I’m missing something you want me to see.”

“No, not this time. Just thought you might be interested in what chemicals they were using to nearly blow up a building. We checked on them; they weren’t associated with any known gangs or drug labs. They were, for once in our professional lives, just a couple of kids playing with a chemistry set. Who would have thought it?” She takes a moment to sip her coffee, watching John check his phone. He had brought it out when she was talking and while normally this wasn’t an issue, the way he kept flicking it on and off to check for a message made her question his thoughts. “Paul told me about Dorian; about how he heard sounds that none of the MXs heard. “ John scowled but sat his phone on her desk. The clock on its face glowed a bright 11:12 at night.

“Yeah… yeah that’s right. That’s why he’s at Rudy’s now. He’ll figure it out.”

“Did he tell you what he heard? Are we certain it wasn’t any kind of transmission, code, or the like? Dorian has told us he functions on different frequencies than the newer models. Maybe he was picking up something.” John considered lying to her. What Dorian told him bothered the android enough to keep him silent during most of the trip and that, to John, was enough to be concerned over. But he still felt it no reason to tell the captain and have Dorian’s record potentially blemished. Right now the incident was nothing more than questionable and until he needed it, it would remain benign.

“Just a hiccup. That’s what Dorian told me. Rudy’ll probably call with a long-winded explanation on how he heard alien transmission or something. I’m not worried about it.” As if on cue, Rudy’s face appeared on the face of John’s phone and John looked at it, then to Maldonado, with a ‘there you go’ expression. He picked up the line but decided to keep it off speaker, just in case. Keeping himself calm and collected was a little harder but he managed that, too.

“Hey, took you long enough. How’s the patient?” He kidded, glancing at the captain to show his obvious aloof feeling toward Dorian being checked on. Rudy didn’t let him finish his sentence before cutting in.

“You need to get here quickly. As in right now.” Rudy’s tone was unsettled and restless. Whatever happened at the lab while John was away was not what either expected. Like the liar he was, John kept his face in poker standards and pretended to be alright.

“Oh so he’s awake?”

“How can you be so calm?!”

“Alright, I’ll come and see him. Thanks for the heads up, Rudy.” He hung up on him while he could still maintain the false calm in his voice. He stood with enough ease and poise but faltered when putting his phone in his pocket. He missed it three times until he just held it in his hand instead, exhaling shakily. Maldonado was watching him steadily and he could see her bite her lower lip. She wouldn’t say anything but she knew.

John let out a shaky laugh and tried on his best care-free look, “Gotta go to Rudy’s. Dorian’s up and he sounds grumpy. Gotta go… gotta go talk some sense into him” He turned to leave. Maldonado stood from her desk and he stopped without turning.

“John. Dorian is city property. But he is your partner and a member of this precinct. Don’t keep me in the dark.” Official, yes. But she cared and he heard it in her voice.

There was a lot he wanted to say to her but he kept silent.

It was possibly the longest walk he could remember making in a while. He counted each step from Maldonado’s desk to the entrance of the station because it was all he could do it keep each leg moving at its inconspicuous speed. Four hundred eight steps. The door closed swung to a close on its hinges by the time he reached his car; sprinting now that he held no audience.

Six stop lights, a close call with a bicyclist with no reflectors, and three songs on the radio later, John pulled into the parking lot of the old church that Rudy had claimed. There was a light inside glowing out through the stained glass making the parking lot a dark rainbow of shaded colors.

 John stormed through doors and past robot body parts until he discovers both Dorian and Rudy as he had left them an hour ago with not a thing changed. No, Rudy’s demeanor had changed. He no longer wanted to be alone to work but now he needed John there to understand and rationalize the fear he was feeling. They looked at one another for several long moments, waiting for the other to speak but both being too volatile to do it. Frustrated, John walked over and pretended to know exactly what he was reading on Dorian’s scans. It was foreign to him but at least he took a step ahead.

“I ran a full diagnostic on him. Head to toe,” Rudy whispered sadly. He was shaking his head in disbelief and John remained focused on the scans. It centered him enough to not look directly at Dorian or at Rudy. In the scans, there was one highlighted area in a violent red hue. This couldn’t be as bad as Rudy was making it seem; hadn’t the man a flare for the dramatic? He humanized machines so maybe Dorian had the equivalent of a bad flu or pneumonia and while bad, maybe it would end differently.  It was possible. Dorian could handle the flu or pneumonia.

“Are you gonna tell me what you found?” He didn’t want to know what Rudy found.

“I’ll try to explain this as simply as I can but I think you should sit down.”

“I don’t want to sit down. I want you to tell me what’s wrong with my partner.” John finally glanced down at Dorian’s face and saw how he looked no different than before. Same Dorian but just shut down for the night. Charging.

“I’m not telling you a thing until you sit down detective!” Rudy was shaking. There was no need to look at his face to tell he needed John to do as he said and just listen to him. Giving in, John pulls a stray stool up against Dorian’s table so his knees would rest against Dorian’s hip. Now seated, Rudy paced back and forth with only Dorian between them. That was enough space.

“I’m sorry for yelling John. Part of my brain is calculating what to do while the other part is still handing what I found. Dorian, like all synthetic beings, has many basic computer components. Hard drive, processor, storage space… the typical. There are some parts that when they begin to wear down, it’s nearly impossible to repair. By then, it’s only a matter of time until it shuts down for good. Sometimes you can get a few years out of a computer while it shuts itself down.”

“I don’t want to hear this.” The palms of John’s hands are kneading his forehead and his good leg bounces against Dorian. He feels it deep inside that no part of this conversation was going to end well for anyone. Rudy slams his hands on the table and Dorian shakes a little which brings John out of himself.

“Well you have to hear this! He’s your partner and he’s got about a year left.” When Rudy says this, John finally dares look up at him. The eyes behind his glasses are tortured with red and John cannot believe the following words.

“The diagnostic I ran… said about a year. He’ll run well for a while but his processer will have glitches like what you saw tonight. It’ll get worse and worse until…” Rudy takes a moment to breathe before he remembers he’s a professional and this is a language he knows, “until he no longer can process even basic programing. Powering on won’t be possible. He’ll just shut down and that will be it.”

There is an unnatural silence now. Dorian’s monitors are beeping and there’s a faint tune on the radio. Something from early ‘20s. Something slow.

It had been six months since he returned to the force and six months since Dorian returned as well. How many car rides was that? How many jokes, how many insults, how many questions had gone between them? The cases they had solved were logged and counted but it was the things before and after that he remembered the most. Setting him up that dating profile. Showing those kids around on tour of the station. Talking about humanity.

Talking about death. It was too soon for this.

Would this be considered death?  He felt ashamed of himself pondering such a thing. Being a cop meant dancing with death and he, of all his fellow officers, knew how close that dance always was. He had seen it and hated it like anyone in his position. But bots were supposed to be different. How many MXs had he witness be destroyed and how many had he, himself, decided to destroy? Was there a difference? Of course not but it was easier for him to think he just broke faulty machinery rather than destroy a ‘being’. Yet now he faced another piece of faulty machinery and it felt like ice freezing up his limbs. And Dorian was supposed to be superior; near invincible with strength and unending power. How could something like this glitch destroy him so soon?

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Do you understand?” Rudy said gently. He was speaking to him like a child and for once, John wasn’t offended or angered by it. He held his head down and carefully nodded. Before when he could not look at Dorian, he now found himself unable to look away.

“Is there anything you can do? Anything anyone can do?” John hated no solutions. Didn’t believe in ‘no win scenario’s or ‘this is it’s. He’d seen miracles before in this field and some by the agile man pacing in front of him. The same man could create synthetic life from spare parts and a little know how. He’s got to know something. The question brought him to his element and his face lifted just enough to offer John a miniscule hope.

“I’ve got a few DRN units and spare parts that won’t be commissioned again. They’ve already gone on to their better place.  Um… that is, they have no memory, nothing left to acknowledge as existing. If I were to turn them on, it would stand there and not respond to any command. It would boot like normal but that’s it. Nothing to run.” He was off on a tangent. Normally John would scoff and tell him to get to the point but he could see how talking about some sort of robotic afterlife gave him solace in such an upsetting time. John wouldn’t lie; it comforted him as well.

“Can… can you fix him?” John closed his eyes. His throat was closing.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” John failed. He shook his head and turned it sharply to the side to avoid embarrassment. Rudy didn’t need to see this.

“But I can try. He’s our friend, John. It’s the least we can do. Now, what I have in mind is going to be costly. I don’t own the DRN’s in my shop. I just hold them and get them ready to go on to their next assignment. Even the permanently decommissioned ones don’t belong to me. I’m storage. Legally speaking, they are still city property. And Dorian is as well. If anyone discovered me tampering with him beyond the typical maintenance, I could get arrested. And this would be considered tampering. I’d be taking part of another DRN and transplanting it into Dorian. That’s only in theory that it would even work. If it didn’t, Dorian would still shut down and I’m charged with destroying city property. I don’t have enough people in the police department who like me.” John hardly heard his rambling because he knew all he had to say.

“I’ll do what I can. I’ve got some saved now and I’ll see what I can do about the rest. Will anyone question you wanting to buy another DRN? Or several?” Rudy tapped on a few panels of the scan as if he were already getting ideas. John tried to feel positive about it but the more he looked at Dorian’s empty eyes made the chance seem less and less.

“Of course. But luckily I’m mutual friends with a police officer.”

“I’m a cop but I don’t know how well I can cover up activity like this.”

“We have to try. I’m going to try. I don’t want to lose Dorian and I know you don’t either.”

“I don’t want to lose another partner. I can’t let another one down.” And that was the whole of it to John. To fail another man he had entrusted his life to. He couldn’t allow it to happen.

“John…” Rudy said his name once again. John realized how strange it sounded coming from him. Not many people said his first name and Dorian was the only one who frequently did. Regardless, he looked up at Rudy.

“Are we going to tell him?” It was a shitty question that weighed heavily on him. He knew how sensitive Dorian was but he knew how wrong of him it would be not to tell him something so dire. But he knew him enough that news like this would devastate him and from what he had read about the decommissioning of the DRNs, they were easily disturbed in states like this. Suicidal, emotionally unstable. Dorian didn’t need that, not now. If this was to be his last year, did he need to feel the urge to end it early? Inside, his determination grew and overcame his better judgment. No, telling him wouldn’t be necessary because Rudy would find that miracle and make him better again. It would be like nothing happened.

“No. Don’t tell him. Remove any history of this and work on fixing him in secret. I don’t want him sneaking into his files and finding out. And… if any of the glitches happen while you’re around him, tell him they’re normal. You have to be a good liar now.” Standing, he put a hand on Dorian’s arm and firmly kept it there. He had his mind set and nothing would change his decision. He wouldn’t fail his partner, not this time.

“Do you want me to wake him, then? It won’t take me long to remove this history. I’m sure he’ll want to see you when he wakes up.” Rudy could see that John was not going to stick around. Dorian may want to see him, but John wasn’t ready. As much as it bothered seeing him shut down as he was, he felt that the moment he saw him boot back up, it would start the invisible counter that would tick loudly on while they tried their best to stop that clock. He’d let tears slip once tonight; he couldn’t handle any more.

“I’ll see him tomorrow. We have an early morning shift. I’ll see him then.”

His hand tightened on Dorian’s arm and squeezed the fabric of his jacket, trying to break through. Would Dorian feel it? Probably not. Strange; John couldn’t remember how his arm felt. They had touched plenty of times on accident or purpose but this felt different. He had never deliberately touched him. Dorian’s arm reminded him of his own and that terrified him. John could relate to a bundle of metal and fibers because he felt just like him.

“I’ll see you later pal. Sleep tight.” John muttered under his breath to Dorian. Habit and human decency made him say that. As he let go of his sleeve, John took one last look at Rudy and attempted a feeble smile. It came off more like an unwanted grin; tired and pointless.

“I’ll… I’ll transfer my savings over to you. Give me a few days and I’ll get more. I’ve got some stuff at home I’m tired of looking at anyway.”

“You know, electric butterflies sell really well. The ladies love them as gifts. I’ve got a couple spares in the back that might want a new home.”

“You don’t have to Rudy. He’s my partner-“

“And he’s my friend. You don’t get the only say in this Dorian-saving scheme. I can always make more butterflies. I can’t make another Dorian. And I don’t want to try.”

The two bid each other a lifeless goodnight but knew neither would get any sleep. Rudy went right to work researching the processor in the typical DRN unit and John… John sat on his couch with a half-nursed beer and a mind heavy with burden. The moment he arrived home, he transferred his savings to Rudy as promised. He’d hope it would make for a good start but felt anxious when he looked around his apartment. What did he have that would even be worth selling? His guitars were already going. There were some comics he had from his youth that might fetch something; old Spiderman issues nearing thirty years old. He’d stop eating out for a while. Cooking wasn’t his specialty but he’d live off peanut butter sandwiches and instant ramen if he had to. It’d be like his academy days all over again.

When his thoughts trailed from money, they touched on Dorian’s life. He was only about eight years old and four of those years he spent asleep. How much had he gotten a chance to do in that short amount of time? Being property of the city didn’t allow for many freedoms but he had to have desires; things to do before it was too late. Everyone had a bucket list of some sort and why would Dorian be any different?

What would he want to do? Would he share it with him?

John sipped the beer but tasted how flat it was in his mouth.

What would a robot want to do with his last year of life?


	2. Pretend to Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this chapter is incredibly long and nearly killed me. I think trying to write a full chapter in a week's time is not going to be all that realistic for me as I had hoped; not when I have comics to update and a full work schedule. More than likely, the next chapter will be out in two weeks. I apologize; I really wanted to try for a weekly update.
> 
> I also enjoy how I can't seem to write anything short; all of my stories end up being novels! I hope you are all prepared and I hope this is worth it for you! I'll try my best!
> 
> (Also, on Dorian's cap. I drew a picture like a week ago of Dorian wearing a Seahawks cap and for some dumb reason, it stuck with me so that's why it's included in the story. I'm sorry!)

He’d fallen asleep on the couch with the half empty beer bottle tipped downward, leaving a small puddle on the hard wood. It wasn't uncommon for him to fall asleep on the couch though he tried not to make a habit of it because of the cricks in the neck and the strain on the back it left him. That and if he woke up in the middle of the night without his leg, he had no crutches near his bedside to reach for. When his phone rang, he jerked awake from the sound and fumbled toward his side. Dorian’s face was on the screen. He couldn’t help hesitating. With a deep breath and his eyes closed, he answered in a typical, early morning grump of a way.

“Yeah?”

“Good morning John,” chimed Dorian’s voice in its pleasant yet neutral fashion.  John was not ready to hear that voice, even with a moment of to gather himself.  The night before came flooding back at a repulsive pace and it rendered him silent. Dorian didn’t urge him on but waited for him to respond on his own. It took longer than either expected.

“Yeah, morning. Am I late?”

“No. I know it takes you about fifteen minutes to wake up fully. Your morning routine takes about forty five minutes which is why I called you. You seemed a little distraught last night so I wanted to make sure you had plenty of time.” Ironic choice of words. John shakes his head and holds the phone away from his face for a moment. He isn’t awake enough for this.

“I won’t be late. I’ll be there on time.”

“I know. Are you alright John?” The sudden concern snaps him back to the present. He hated how perceptive the bot could be at times but he knew it was nothing unusual. John not being alright could be caused by any number of things and for him to be in a lousy mood was typical; downright expected.

“I’m swell. I’m hungry and I fell asleep wrong last night. My leg doesn’t even have a full charge.” Dorian would have to buy that.

“Why don’t you leave early and pick me up? I’ll treat you to breakfast.” John scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head, cradling the phone with his shoulder. His leg was on the charger so he hobbled toward it carefully, hands reaching for the back of the couch or the table for stability. He wasn’t lying; it wasn’t at a full charge just yet. 85% isn’t considered full by a robot’s standards.

“Treat me to breakfast? On what? Your good looks?”

“Hey man, my good looks could purchase several breakfasts. You up for natto?” John scrunched his nose and shook his head even if no one could see him doing so. Habit.

“Nah, natto hasn’t been sitting well with me lately. Some tamagoyaki sounds good though,” John realized Dorian was distracting him with food and thought that was a little devious, “You don’t have to buy me breakfast. I can eat here.”

“I know. But I want to.” John leaned against the table, connecting his leg to his stump while trying to think of an argument against that. Instead, another thought appeared.

“If we have time after eating, is there anything you want to do?” John searched around for his watch and saw that even with a quick breakfast, the two would have enough time to do… something else. Anything else, barring any emergency that came up at the precinct. They always stopped to get coffee, let John do some brief shopping, or grab a bite to eat but that was always on John. If it was something he wanted to do, they would and Dorian would follow along.

The silence on the other end was sort of funny because John knew the question side-swiped Dorian.

“I… don’t believe I need anything. To do anything.”

“Really? Nothing?” John wasn’t trying to pressure him or goad him but there had to be something Dorian wanted to do. Being at the station or hanging out at Rudy’s couldn’t be that stimulating.

“I… I wouldn’t mind picking up a hat.” It was John’s turn to be thrown for a loop. Of all the things he was expecting Dorian to say, getting a hat was hardly one of them.  He kept it to himself though because this was Dorian and he wanted to do something. It wasn’t just piggybacking on John’s outings; this was something Dorian wanted.

“A hat? Like one Rudy had? Did that rub off on you?”

“No I don’t want a fedora. I was… thinking more along the lines of a baseball cap. Weather forecasts are predicting intense sun over the next four days and the polarizing function in my eyes has been acting up lately. I thought having a baseball cap would make things easier until Rudy has the proper equipment and time to repair the issue.” It made sense and was a logical idea, of course, but John felt a small wave of laughter coming on.

“Why not a pair of sunglasses? Wouldn’t that be a little bit more efficient?”

“Yeah I guess so. But all officers seem to wear sunglasses.”

“You’re an officer. What’s your point?” John didn’t need to ask but he wanted to hear it.

“I want something different. Something I can choose myself.” That was it. John smiled in spite of his nagging.

“Alright man. We’ll see what we can find.”

Even with the detours taken, John and Dorian were only about fifteen minutes late for their shift and he considered that a good thing. Paul and Stahl were standing next to each other, MXs nearby, discussing God only knew when the two came in. John tried to integrate himself into the conversation while Dorian checked in but both officers gave him an odd look.

“Why is Dorian wearing a Seahawks cap?” Valerie asked with a curios smile on her face. Paul was still looking intently at Dorian as if he had changed into a whole different creation. John shrugged; it would be easy to give the Dorian explanation about polarization and helping his eyes and blah blah blah, but John opted for the more realistic reason.

“He liked it so I got it for him.” There, simple enough.

“I don’t think that’s regulation wear for a synthetic.” Paul said, stating protocol and trying his best to be a jackass before 10 a.m. John rolled his eyes and picked up the data-pad that Valerie had discarded. Something interesting had to be on it; more so than Paul at least.

“If the MXs can wear their riot gear even when they’re not in a riot, Dorian can wear a hat. C’mon, what’s the big deal?”

“The deal is Dorian is a machine. You don’t need to give machines presents. Machines don’t have preferences or wants. It’s like you’re dressing up a lamp.” Yep, Paul was certainly on his way to being a major jackass today. Valerie gave him a dirty look at his statement so John felt a little braver in his response.

“How do you know machines don’t have preferences? And it’s just a damn hat, don’t make it into a huge thing.” John was already fed up with this conversation. Dorian was heading back toward them so he wanted it over as quickly as possible.

“Watch and learn. MX-43,” Paul’s MX lifted his head in attention, “What do you prefer? Cloudy days or sunny days?”

“Neither, detective. I am fully capable of functioning in both.” The MX’s voice was stiff and flat. John rolled his eyes and Valerie shook her head.

“Neither! Imagine that. How about morning shift or evening shift?”

“Again, neither hinder my capabilities, sir.” At this, Dorian’s presence in the group was felt and he looked at MX-43, calculating. Dorian smiled gently at his comrade.

“MX-43, do you prefer classic rock or heavy metal?” The question seemed pointless to Paul but his MX stalled a moment, blinked as he processed, and stuttered a response.

“I… prefer classic rock. It is what we listen to most frequently in Detective Paul’s vehicle and that, when weighed with other genres of music both recent and classic, is… most…” the MX struggled with his words a moment, “…most efficient for me to process.” John and Valerie looked impressed; Paul was simply speechless. He looked at his MX with stunned surprise and the MX responded by turning and walking away, ending by Paul’s desk.

“See? You _do_ learn something new every day.” John said, gloating in Paul’s inability to respond. Dorian smiled happily at the situation and Valerie gave him a light, loving punch on the upper arm.

“Well, I like your hat Dorian. But don’t expect the Seahawks to make it to the super bowl this year.” John smirked at her response and Dorian shot her a smile.

“Thank you Detective Stahl but we’ll see what happens. “

The group turned when they heard the familiar click of Maldonado’s heels heading toward them. Turning, she acknowledged each of them with a friendly nod but kept her glance on Dorian. She tilted her head toward him but looked at John.

“Should I ask?” John shook his head, smiling.

“Nah.”

“Alright I won’t. Tea-time’s over people. Detective Richter just contacted me; there’s been a kidnapping by Hill Street High School,” Maldonado had their attention now and she tapped on her data pad which brought up the image of a young teen on the screen before them.

“His name is Paetar Johnson and he was last seen walking to school with his boyfriend. According to Johnson’s boyfriend, the two of them were heading to school on 5th and Hill when a convertible approached them. Johnson went up to the car, said a few words to the driver, and was then pulled into the convertible. The driver sped off with Johnson and Nathan Allan, Johnson’s boyfriend, called the police. He’s been missing for 45 minutes and we don’t have much time to spare. Valerie, I want you to speak with Johnson’s family. Find out what you can and see if anything suspicious had been happening before his disappearance. Paul, you run a check on the cars fitting the description of the convertible. John, Dorian, I want you two to meet with Nathan to get an exact account of what happened.” She didn’t bother with a ‘let’s go’ or ‘move out’ because when it came to kidnappings, time was not on their side. Every hour that passed lowered the chances of finding the child alive. It was standard statistics in the department but everyone knew it too well to dawdle.

They dispersed immediately, John and Dorian getting into their cruiser and speeding away. Dorian was reading his data-pad, processing as much as he could about the incident.  John watched him briefly, exhaling a low chuckle as he saw his partner with eyes downcast and cap lowered over his eyes. Dorian lifted his head and looked at John inquisitively.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just glad you like your hat.” Dorian smiled at that but then looked thoughtful.

“Thank you again, John. You didn’t have to get me this hat.”

“It’s no problem, buddy, you know that.”

“Yeah I know but you really didn’t have to. I don’t need a hat. Yes, it helps my eyes while they’re on the fritz but you still didn’t have to. You did anyway. And you could have gotten me any number of hats. A simple solid color one. Or you could have gotten me sunglasses as you suggested. Instead, you got me a hat I chose; one I liked. “ John didn’t know how to respond to that and decided not to. What was the big deal that everyone was seeing that he didn’t? Why was it so insane for Dorian to want to choose what he wore? Feeling confused by the entirety of it, he altered the subject.

“Well, regardless, I think Stahl’s right. Don’t get your hopes up for the Seahawks. We’re here.” John pulled the cruiser down a side street of residential homes and pulled up in front of one of the more old fashioned homes. Most of this sector was full of the remaining Victorian homes from years past; John could see the appeal. There was something comforting and unique about these pointed roofs and arched windows. The thick, red, wooden door opened as they walked up the pebble pathway where a middle aged woman and young man peeked out.

“Nathan Allan? Mrs. Allan?” John asked. The two greeted him, then Dorian.

“I’m Detective Kennex and this is my partner, Dorian. We’re here to ask you some questions about the disappearance of Paetar Johnson.” The two stepped aside and allowed Dorian and John entrance to their home. The inside was as old fashioned as the outside; hardly any newer technology had been integrated into the classic scheme of the home. Dorian was fascinated by some of the more traditional aspects; a touch tone telephone, a vinyl record player with actual vinyl records beside it, and a thermostat that required one’s adjustment physically rather than vocally. Earthy tones and shades hung from the walls and to their surprise, not a single holographic image showed on the walls. All photographs, all hung behind glass. Dorian was absolutely taken by the antique feel and had to resist touching the old technology. Instead, he attempted to redirect his attentions to the case at hand.

Mrs. Allan had seated them in the den in plush chairs and an old oak table separating them. John began his line of questioning to Nathan while Mrs. Allan excused herself for beverages, asking if either partook in tea or coffee. John, coffee. Dorian politely refused both but sat down in the floral patterned seat next to John.

“Have you guys heard anything yet? About Paetar?” Nathan begged, looking between the two. John shook his head but Dorian rested his elbows on the table, hands clasped together.

“We’re all doing our best to find him, Nathan. That is why we’re here. If you’re up to it, we have some questions to ask so we can possible piece this disappearance together.” The side of Dorian’s face lit up but he said nothing about what he received. Nathan watched him and was also silent.

“Can you describe the person Paetar spoke with?” John asked, monitoring Nathan’s body language. He was acting nervous but that was typical for having to speak with police and having the morning he’s had. To John’s surprise, he paid attention to both detectives equally. Most people tend to favor John over Dorian because of the ease of human to human communication. Perhaps he didn’t realize Dorian was a robot but at this point, it would be pretty hard to miss.

“He was a… a middle-age guy, probably about 30? He was wearing a hoodie so I didn’t get to see his face really well. Paetar didn’t seem scared of him or anything.  Actually, he acted like he knew him.”

“It’s common in kidnapping cases, the victim knows the abductor. Can you remember what they said to one another?” Dorian asked as another bout of lights flashed on his face. Nathan’s mother returned to the den, cups in hand. John thanked her and sipped the coffee, allowing Dorian’s line of questioning. She sat close to her son but allowed him to speak without interruption.

“Um… he said hey to Paetar, Paetar walked over and… god they were talking so low I barely heard them. He did say… he said ‘does Mom know?’ And then the guy said something and pulled him in. But that’s all I remember them saying. I didn’t even think to look at the license or anything else. I just thought it was someone he knew. I didn’t even-“ Nathan was beginning to get upset so his mother stepped in while he calmed himself. John smiled sympathetically while Dorian watched in a blank-faced interest. John could tell; Dorian was the king of subtle observation.

“They’ve been together for two years. I was a little shocked when he brought Paetar home to meet me the first time but, I’d be lying if I didn’t say the two together haven’t grown on me. I wish there was more I could do to help. I feel awful for Anna. Oh, Paetar’s mother,” Mrs. Allan clarified when John looked at her curiously.

“We’ve got one of our detectives speaking with the Johnson’s now. Listen, Nathan,” John began, looking the youth in the eyes, “you did everything you could. Don’t beat yourself up over something like this. You called the police, you’re talking to us, and you’ll let us know if anything else comes to mind, right?” Nathan nodded quickly. “Then you have no reason to be upset with yourself. Let us do what we can. Because you did what you could.” With this, Dorian and John stood, thanking them for their hospitality and for the information. John could have asked more and probably should have but the kid could only handle so much. He would be the detective now; Stahl and Paul had to have something else for them byt this point.

Dorian remained very quiet, even while walking toward the car. His face lit up several times during the interaction but now seemed to still itself; whatever he had received must have been interesting to keep him so quiet. John wondered if it was news, information from other MXs, anything relating to the case or if it were something else entirely. He feared it was another glitch and it scared him to ask for verification. Dorian was analyzing something on his data-pad when John heard his phone vibrate on the dashboard of his cruiser.

“What’s going on?” Stahl had called before he had the chance; her timing superb as usual.

“I just finished talking with Johnson’s family,” Valerie began, her voice sounding distant. She was on speakerphone with a good deal of background noise; John figured she was driving. “Found out some interesting things you might wanna hear.” John dropped his phone on the space between he and Dorian, it going to speaker as well.

“What have you got?” John drove slow at first until he knew his destination. Heading back to the precinct seemed the best idea now but he’d wait until Stahl finished. Dorian was flipping through files and images quickly on the pad but from the few glances John got, saw nothing he could decipher as important. It probably was but he couldn’t tell.

“According to the Johnson’s, nothing out of the ordinary has happened in the past few weeks. I thought it was a dead end but I started talking about their family; just to get a general idea of them. They told me how Paetar is not their only son but when I asked about their eldest, they didn’t want to talk about him much. They said that they had a fall out with him a few years back that never healed. He was essentially disowned. That got me doing some research,” Stahl explained. They could hear her curse quietly under her breath; something about an asshole cutting her off at an intersection.

“Sounds promising.”

“Jaspen Johnson, age 29, has priors. You’d never guess on what.”

“Hate crimes. Primarily those against homosexuals.” Dorian said, not turning his eyes away from the data pad. John wasn’t expecting him to speak so he cautioned a sideways glance to him just long enough for inspection. The side of his face was processing heavily and John couldn’t remember the last time he had stayed in that state for so long; probably when he was so low on charge. Flashes of red popped up here and there but it was mostly the typical blue.

“That’s right. He doesn’t have any record before two years ago but whatever happened on that two year mark, the charges started piling on; one after another. His last one involved him putting a young transgender woman in ICU for three days. He was recently released on good behavior.”

“How recent ago?” John was turning on the main street toward the station. Dorian looked up and made the motion to keep driving. Confused but trusting his partner’s judgment, John drove by the station and onto the freeway.

“Three weeks ago. The Johnson’s didn’t tell me if he had tried contacting them but it seems like the strongest lead we’ve gotten. What did you find out from Nathan?” John was getting another call from Paul but decided to ignore it. It was Paul and he could wait.

“That Paetar knew the man who approached him in the car and that two years ago, he and Nathan got together and I guess came out together. Now, we put two and two together: sounds like Jaspen had an issue with this. Known hate crimes against homosexuals, just released from jail, gay brother suddenly missing and appears to have been kidnapped by someone he knew? I think we can assume what’s going on.” John didn’t like saying any of that because he knew exactly what could happen in a case like this. Saying it straightforward and sterile worked to keep him focused but he didn’t like kids getting hurt and he hated it even more that a kid was getting hurt over something trivial and by a family member no less. All of this case left a horrid taste in John’s mouth and the sooner they found the kid, alive, the sooner he’d be able to accept that he was doing something right in the world instead of doing something wrong by belonging to a system that allowed a guy like Jaspen loose on good behavior.

“Have you answered Paul’s call? Now he’s calling me. Someone needs to talk to him.”

“You do it. He likes you more.” John smirked. Dorian was motioning for John to turn, leading them onto a dirt path. Houses were scattered through the fields but none seemed inhabited. Old farm houses if John could guess, back when the area was capable of wheat and livestock. Before the regulations changed, John remembered this area being so lush and fertile. Now, it was a lot like other areas; old fashioned and distant from the current reality of things. Caught up in his thoughts, John ignored Stahl hanging up and Dorian leaned over to him.

“MX-43 has been uploading information for me since we left Nathan’s. We were able to narrow down what kind of vehicle was seen based on other eyewitness accounts near the school and by recent rentals at local lots. Johnson did not think ahead enough to use an alias and used an unregistered bitcoin. Typically those are a warning sign to any rentals and if used, they notify the authorities.” Dorian flipped the pad sideways to show John a picture of the convertible they were searching for. Johnson’s face and profile were lined along the side of the vehicle and it solidified the case for John. It was easy to talk about people when there wasn’t a face but the moment he saw Johnson’s profile, a dread filled him. He didn’t want to see this face in the flesh; he didn’t know what he would do.

“So your reasoning for us to be out in the middle of nowhere is…?”

“The police cameras around the main streets of the city show footage of that particular vehicle speeding to this area. The rental lot allowed Paul access to its GPS and was able to track it to this point where wireless became scarce. It’s secluded and the homes are all empty. Any of these could house them without notice. Our cameras do not survey these rural areas.”

“Maybe they should now. You got all of this from Paul’s MX?”

“The majority, yes. I did some detective work on my own once I made the connections. I am capable of putting two and two together.” Dorian said with a smile. John turned to smile at him but saw a flashing red spot next to Dorian’s left ear. It was constant. He changed from smiling to a scowl but watched the dirt path in front of him stretch out into a wide dirt clearing.

“Can I ask you something without you thinking too much about it?”

“I’ll try but I make no guarantees. I can’t not think, unlike other occupants of the car. What’s up?”

“Double-negative. Are you feeling ok?” John knew that over the next few months, this question would become part of his daily regiment if he weren’t careful. How often he asked Dorian his status would be a telling sign that he knew something was wrong and at this point, they had agreed to keep it silent. How infrequently could he ask so Dorian wouldn’t make the connection? It felt far too soon since only yesterday but John could not help himself. He had to know.

Dorian took his turn watching John.

“I’m fine. I’ve got… no, I’m fine.” He decided against himself, positioning himself sternly in his seat. John couldn’t tell if he were angry or calculating because with Dorian, the two seemed the same at times. Ultimately, John left the matter at that.

 The flash of the red car mostly hidden in the overgrown weeds would have been missed by both of them if they had continued talking beyond that moment. Dorian pointed to John’s left and he saw it as well; stopping quickly and preparing themselves for whatever came next. Before exiting, John called for back-up just in case. Strangely, it showed that he had several missed calls from Paul and Stahl that hadn’t gone through but all had been after he had been contacted by Stahl. It was too late to check on them now; it had been two hours since Paetar’s disappearance and that was too long for John.

They inspected the car quickly; finding Paetar’s backpack and destroyed cell phone on the seat. Having no doubts now, the two separated to cross more ground. Guns aimed, they treaded through the thick grass which stood well above their heads. Communication was halted until they got a sense of the area because it was unknown what potentially was hidden in these tall grasses.  That was, until John fell.

The hole before him was near invisible for one moment he was stepping through more of that dense yellow weed to suddenly feeling no land beneath him and landing hard in soggy dirt. His arm hit something on the way down but whatever it was, it moved immediately.

“Oh my god are you ok?” a panicked voice managed to shakily get out between moments of hyperventilating. John’s vision cleared enough to look up and see a young man, bruised and a little battered, kneeling above him. Beyond both of them was about twelve feet of dirt wall and a pale blue sky too high to reach. John sat up and rested against the dirt, his left arm hanging limp. He tried rotating it only to feel its fate; he had dislocated it in the fall. Wonderful, that’ll make things easier for him.

“I assume you’re Paetar?” John inquired while holding in a groan of discomfort. Paetar nodded and sat in front of him, looking reassured but nevertheless scared.

“Yeah. Are there more of you coming?”

“There will be. My partner is still up there somewhere looking around. Speaking of… Dorian?” John said, tapping his wireless piece in his ear. There was static. John shook his head and looked up at the entrance of their trap.

“I think we’ve got a crummy connection out here. Doubt there’s any wi-fi,” John joked but inside, he was worried. Sure that was a possibility but there was also the terrifying possibility that Dorian was in trouble or, worse, compromised because of the internal issues. He wouldn’t say it out loud and wouldn’t show it on the outside; Paetar was scared enough as is.

“Well, we might be here awhile. Want to tell me a story?” John suggested Paetar to get closer, holding his good arm open for him. The youth hesitated but moved closer, sitting next to John who loosely put his arm around his shoulders. Safe, physical contact would do him well.

“It all happened so fast. I was going to school and I saw Jaspen pull up. I haven’t seen him in a while so I was excited and confused.  I asked him if Mom knew he was in town and then he grabbed me and pulled me into his car. I wasn’t scared at first; he was always kind of impulsive. But when we drove out of town, I started getting scared. He kept talking about making me better, doing the right thing for once. He broke my mobile and drug me out of the car. I was really freaking out and screaming because this wasn’t like the Jaspen I grew up with. I mean, I haven’t seen him in a long time but… he’s so different now. He pushed me into this hole and said that if I stayed here for a while, he’d come back and check my progress. He hasn’t been back yet.” Paetar suddenly looked up, aware of how long it’d been since he saw him but relaxed when no faces peered back at him from the opening.

John was becoming quite aware of the pain in his shoulder and kept shifting to find a bearable position. It’s ok; Dorian would show up any minute. They’d find the bad guy. Paetar would be home by dinner time. John would get a sucker for being a good patient at the hospital. Case closed. He wanted that so badly.

From above, a few rocks and clods of dirt fell into the hole which made both captives look up. Johnson stood, rifle cocked and aimed, looking directly at John. Not the first time he’d glared down the barrel of a gun and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Hey. It’s cozy down here; you should join us.” John was putting himself between Johnson’s gun and Paetar but Johnson’s hands were shaking.

“Who are you? You shouldn’t be down there!”

“I know but it looked like the place to be. All the cool kids are here.”

“No. He’s down there for a reason. He just needs to think about what he’s doing. He’ll get better!” John scoffed and shook his head, pushing Paetar into the wall. It may be cramped but the more he covered him with his body, the less likely any part of him would get hurt if the man above decided to act.

“Get better? There’s nothing wrong with him! Except missing a day of school and needing a shower from being down a, ya know, dirt hole.”

“Yes there is. He’s been messed up for two years. Mom and dad may not see it but I do! Just say you’re better, Pae, and we’ll go home! It’s easy.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him.” John insisted, voice stern and anger rising. The rifle cracked loudly and a shot dug through the earth near the left side of John’s head. He tried not to flinch but bit his lip to steady himself. Paetar curled in on himself behind John; John’s good arm reaching behind him and holding him tight against his back.

“YOU. NEED. TO. SHUT. UP. Do you hear me?! This has nothing to do with you!”

“Listen to yourself!” John yelled back, trying to make himself as loud as possible. He hoped Dorian would hear. “This is your brother! How can you do this to your brother?! How can you be so ignorant and stupid about something like that?! It’s almost 2050! This kind of shit went out of style in 2020! Get over yourself and your prehistoric insecurities! Let him be human!”

Johnson cocked his gun again and shook his head, aiming directly at John. Paetar was trying to get out from behind him but John wouldn’t let him move. He wasn’t going to let this kid die because of something like this. No way, not while he had a say in it.

“Jaspen! Stop!” Paetar cried from behind John’s protection. It was the breaking point for the eldest Johnson. John closed his eyes, knowing the next shot would be for him. The thunderous noise echoed but it took a few moments for John to realize he wasn’t about to die. Instead of silence, Johnson was cursing and screaming from above. Curious, John looked and saw Dorian, albeit late, standing where Johnson had once been. His weapon aimed away from him indicated he had Johnson on the ground, writhing in a pain from a well-placed and well-timed bullet wound. Seeing Dorian’s face made John laugh and lean forward, releasing Paetar from his encasement.

“Are you two alright down there? Stahl and Paul’s ETA is six minutes, along with back up and an ambulance. What can I do to help?” Dorian was eyeing John’s shoulder injury with concern and he reminded John of a puppy unable to reach his parent. The littlest thing he noticed was how Dorian hopped from one foot to another when he couldn’t crawl down the hole to meet them. It was killing him not being able to help them more; knowing John was hurt and he having to play police officer so far away.

“We’re fine. You’re cutting it closer and closer, pal. One of these days…” John shook his head, chuckling to himself before smiling up at his partner. Dorian relaxed with that smile and nodded. He had done well; John could at least make him feel reassured by joking and smiling. Sometimes the faces he played were his best gift.

“Well. You are an adult. I thought you could take care of yourself by now.”

“Hey this is me we’re talking about. Just do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell Paul I fell down a hole.”

***

Forty minutes later, John was sitting on the hood of his cruiser with an EMT prodding him with antiseptic swabs over various scrapes on his face and neck. It took two people to hold him down long enough to pop his shoulder back into place because, at this point, he was full of adrenaline and ready to do anything. Paetar was alright, the perpetrator was in handcuffs in the back of Paul’s cruiser, and hey, even Stahl was full of surprises when she handed him a single pain pill. She warned him about saying anything aloud with a finger to her lips and a hushed ‘shh’ after the pill was swallowed. Yes, he was doing just fine.

But the killjoys told him to sit still for a bit until things were cleaned up. Paetar was speaking with Dorian in quiet tones but Dorian had a smile on his face the entire time. John had to wonder about what Dorian had inside his head; what kind of things he was programmed for. Was there all a code about when to smile at someone, how to talk to kids, how to just do everything right? If there was, how lucky of him. John wished he had a code like that since most days, basic conversation was complicated.

While in this thoughts, Paetar left Dorian and approached John. The injured detective looked up and smiled much like Dorian did but maybe a good chunk of that smile was from the pain pill; maybe the other was from a job well done. Paetar smiled back all the same.

“Thank you. My parents are gonna be here soon. I can’t wait to go home.”

“I can imagine. Stay home from school for a day or two. Milk it while you can.” This made Paetar laugh and John sighed happily. Yeah, this was a job well done. Suddenly, Paetar wrapped one arm around John’s neck and hugged him, careful to avoid his bad shoulder. This wasn’t the first time he’d been hugged by a victim but even the times before could never prepare him for the next. The job wasn’t about the after so much; you were there to keep the public safe and when the public reacted, most of the time, you had no idea how to act. John rested his forehead against the youth’s shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not doing anything wrong. Love who you want to love.” John whispered. That was enough out of him today. He was getting sentimental and sappy in his exhaustion and pain. Paetar went to Stahl, leaving John alone once again. He was hoping Dorian would come keep him company but Dorian was giving his statement and that was more important. Well, it would have been if Paul hadn’t sat next to John on his cruiser in which case, keeping John company was more important.

“Are we keeping tabs on your injuries since you’ve been back?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t think so. I want to talk to you about something though.”

“God, can it wait? I’m hurt and I got shot at today. Have some mercy.”

“It’s about Dorian.” This, as Paul expected, had John’s attention. Try as he might to not show it, it was visible like a splash of color on a blank page. Mention Dorian and you would have Kennex’s attention. Sad how Paul had told that to more than one member of the precinct and how it was nearly accurate whenever someone tried it.

“When my MX was transferring data to him, he kept telling me that Dorian was transferring back but it was garbled. It was nonsense. Is your synthetic being a smart-ass or is he busted?” John could have punched him for that. Should have punched him. But Paetar was watching him, he only had one good arm, and today was a good day dammit. Paul was lucky for the slide.

“Maybe your MX is the one having issues. Ever thought about that?”

“My MX-43 is top of the line, Kennex. Yours is an antique in comparison. Which one is likely to break first?”

“Depends on if I want to take a gun to that one, too.” Paul surprised him by grabbing his shirt and yanking him forward. John yelped in pain, too startled to keep the noise in his throat. Dorian and Stahl looked over at them, Paul not caring about the scene he was making. Dorian took a step toward them.

“Touch my MX and you’ll regret it. Get your bot checked out. If he’s broken, I’m gonna report it to Maldonado. We’ll see how long he lasts after that.” Paul released John’s shirt and John fell back against the cruiser. Paul motioned for MX-43 to follow him which it did, obediently.

Enough of this. John needed to get out of there. Just as he reached that conclusion, Dorian was by his side, helping him up and off the car. They hesitated before entering the vehicle but John caved when he saw where this was going. Dorian, of course, was all smiles.

“This is the only time you’re going to get to drive. Enjoy it.”

***

By mid-day, John had done enough work for a full belt to belt shift. Maldonado cleared him and Dorian for an early day off but there was still paperwork to finish and he hated leaving it for someone else. Someone else, anyone else, was messy and in spite of his initial appearance, John was nothing short of thorough. The shifts were changing from morning to evening and he had requested a private room to finish in; mostly to avoid noise but so he could secretly watch the end of the game he had been missing. Work and play could coincide and he was a hell of a multi-tasker.

He typed on the console while the large viewing screen in front of his desk showed his team missing the third goal since he had tuned in. He was annoyed; it was like watching a bunch of kids kicking a damn can around tonight. Were they going to stay off for the whole season?

Well, today had started off good but he guessed he couldn’t win them all.

There was a small rap on the glass door, John expecting it to be Valerie or Maldonado bidding him a good night and good job before heading out themselves. Dorian, instead, peeked his head in and asked if he was bothering him.

“No, c’mon in. I’ll be finished soon and we’ll get you to Rudy’s. Were you able to charge a little?” John slid his chair over to allow Dorian access to the other beside him.

“Yes, I was able to. The other MXs looked confused seeing me again down there. They’ll probably gossip about me around the water cooler tomorrow.” John smirked at the joke. He saved his work on the console and turned off the screen, leaning back in his chair and plopping his heavy boots on the table’s surface. He looked at Dorian expectantly.

“Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Put your feet up. Relax a little.” He watched Dorian calculate the action before doing it. At first he had his arms out to balance himself but once he found that sweet spot, tilting between comfort and falling on your ass, he relaxed and put his hands behind his head to mimic John. Well, near mimic John since one arm was still in a sling.

“And isn’t that the best decision you’ve ever made in your life?” John laughed when he saw how pleased Dorian was with himself. Two sets of heavy, filthy boots may have mucked up the table and the night janitor would give them hell for it, but it was worth it to see the two relaxing together.

“I can see why you do this. It’s nice. Your team is being annihilated.” Dorian commented, John turning quickly to see the Knights goalie miss a block. It didn’t go in but it was close.

“Oh you know how to ruin date, pal.” John muted the game and together they sat in silence. Comfortable silence. If John tried, he could fall asleep like this and not have a single complaint. He closed his eyes and exhaled the tension he had been feeling from the day, all of it melting away peacefully. This was ok; in fact, it was perfect. He was hurt, sure but it would be temporary. A day or two from here and he’d be back to normal and ready to hit the streets hard. No lives were taken today under his watch and while his team was proving to be an embarrassment, he could be thankful to be there to watch them get their asses handed to them. He had a whole night ahead of him, a whole week, a whole year…

John’s eyes opened and his breath hitched in his throat.

“Your heart rate suddenly changed. Are you alright?” Dorian had his hand on his arm before he knew it; John sitting upright in his chair once again with his feet flat on the floor.

“John?” Dorian returned to a sitting position alongside John but John remained quiet. He had forgotten for that brief moment and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Would that happen a lot now; one moment things would be great and it would hit him that Dorian may not see 2050? That in a year or so, he’d have to ride with someone new? That Dorian would be put into a plastic bag and written off as faulty city property? Why could he forget it so easily? Did that make him horrible?

Stricken but containing his emotions, John shut the screen off and the two sat in darkness. A tiny glow, a small flicker from Dorian’s circuits illuminated the bot’s face but it fell dark soon after. John was glad for the darkness in the room because it hid the elephant and his guilt.

“Dorian, are you happy doing what you’re doing?”

“John?”

“Just hear me out. Is this what you want to do?”

“I was programmed to be a police officer John, you know that.”

“That’s what you were programmed to do. But is this what you, not your programming, want to do?” The silence was heavy in the darkness. John wanted to see Dorian process the information but his lights remained dim under his skin while he kept his thoughts quiet. Eventually, a near eternity later for John, Dorian spoke.

“Of course it is, man. I get to be alive again, don’t I? I get to help out, put the bad guys away, save the world one small step at a time. My programming says I should be doing this but how many DRNs do you see doing it? I can’t imagine doing anything else but… you know, I’ve never seen the ocean.”

“What do you mean, we drove across it this morning on our way to get breakfast.” John forgot how simple he thought at times. Dorian didn’t call him on it but continued anyway.

“You know what it’s like to swim in the ocean, to have sand under your feet. You’ve done that on your days off or when you were a kid. I’m not saying I want to replicate a childhood I never had but there are things I wish I could experience. I see the ocean every day, but I’ve never seen it, not in the way you have. I may not ever experience it and part of me is fine with that; the calculating, duty driven part of me that is numbers and code. But there’s that part of me that people don’t believe I have that wants to know.” Dorian spun his chair away from John so he was facing the opposite wall.

“Sometimes I want to be a little more human, John. But I don’t have the programming to do that. I’m city property and I’m a police officer. I’m not an MX but I’m not human,” Dorian chuckled sadly in the darkness, “If I just could be more human, the things I’d do…” John watched Dorian light up once again, the blue glow lingering for longer now. It saddened him to see a hint of red mixed in but Dorian didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he called no attention to it.

When John Kennex set his mind to something, there was little that could stop him from accomplishing it. He had a starting plan in his head and it branched, arcing and spreading off from that initial idea like the blue circuits in Dorian’s mind, that lead to what he wanted to do. It would take time and it would be hard to explain to any outsider, but it didn’t matter to him in the slightest.

The chair behind Dorian squeaked, indicating that John had stood up. Dorian remained seated but felt a hand start on his shoulder but slide, nervously, down to his bicep. From there, it squeezed gently. John didn’t see Dorian’s hand raise in the darkness but when his palm covered John’s fingers, the lights glittered across Dorian’s fingertips and as quickly as they began, the moment ended. John quickly removed his hand.

“Let’s get you back to Rudy’s,” he said while opening the door, letting the artificial light from the precinct back into the office. Dorian had stood and made incredible distance in the time it took John to stand and open the door but when the light flooded in, Dorian pulled down the bill of the cap he still wore from the early morning. As he turned it down over his eyes, John could see a smile cross Dorian’s lips and that solidified any doubts he had about his plan.

Dorian would get that chance to be human; John would make certain of it.


	3. Memory Wallpaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long it took to get this chapter out but I really struggled with it! It's one of those kinds of chapters where not a lot of action happens but sometimes having a nice respite in a story like this isn't necessarily a bad thing. The next chapter is rather action heavy so I'm hoping it'll be out sooner than this one.  
> In the mean-time, I do hope you enjoy it and I hope we'll have a show to keep watching after next Monday. I sort of made a promise that if they cancel Almost Human, I'm going to write a comic based on what I feel would happen in the second season. I hope it won't come to that!

In early August, 38 days after Rudy explained Dorian’s future in grim scripture, John received a ridiculous looking invoice from said scientist itemizing all the tools he had bought from John’s savings. When he asked him about it, Rudy wanted to reassure him that he wasn’t squandering the hard earnings of the detective on frivolities. John asked for a translation.

“A lot of what I’ve bought is precursors to a bigger project. I managed to enhance the lab with some more current equipment and I’m watching for a bid on a partial DRN unit.” Rudy said over the phone. John was in his kitchen on crutches while his leg charged. He had pulled a 48 hour shift the two days prior and it had completely failed him by hour 36. The remainder of his shift was leaning on Dorian who acted as his personal crutch.

“How partial?” He hated talking while eating; mouth full of awkward speech. He was hungry but he wasn’t about to call Rudy back, not when he had information about Dorian. And cereal wasn’t the best thing to leave alone while doing other things.

“Most of the torso, a head, and right arm. According to the description, he was one of the unlucky DRNs who… well, found their purpose too harrowing. He jumped from the 43rd street bridge during rush hour.” John winced. That bridge was nearly impossible for humans to access for something like suicide due to its construct but that wouldn’t stop an android. If Dorian could climb up a near 15 storey building on a low charge, he could see one make its way to the top of the bridge.

“Do all DRNs look alike?” John asked, wanting to change the subject so he could still stomach his cereal. It was a legitimately curious question from him because he knew MXs had a few designs but what about DRNs? He had seen two since Dorian’s acquaintance and they were identical.

“The vast majority of DRNs resemble Dorian but there were some custom jobs done during their height in popularity. The one I’m hoping to get looks like Dorian. Does that bother you?” Rudy inquired softly. John dug his spoon at his cereal and tried not to think about how it did.

“Why should it?”

“Well, I don’t know. It would bother me; does bother me. I don’t want to get a DRN that’s on its way to a scrap heap. Their faces are so much alike. I don’t want to see Dorian’s face like that. I don’t want to wake him up enough only to mess up his processor and try to fix it again. And what if I can’t? I’ll have destroyed him.”

“Rudy, he was already destroyed. Will he even turn on like Dorian did? I don’t know if we should do that to DRNs that still, kinda, function.”

“According to the description, his synthetic soul was removed. It was damaged severely in the fall so when I wake it up, if I win this auction, the lights would go on but no one would be home. It wouldn’t be the same as when you woke up Dorian.” John exhaled and put his bowl in the sink, half full. He couldn’t eat anymore.

“See what you can do about getting him. I’m working on pawning some stuff and I get paid later this week. And- oh shit, I gotta go.” John had glanced at the clock and began to limp toward his leg. It had enough charge for the day.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m late for picking up Dorian. You know, for him being your roommate, you don’t keep tabs on him very well.”

“Oh, pardon me then. I was wondering why he was up and about on his and your day’s off. What will the two of you gents be up to, if you don’t mind me asking?” Rudy asked this last party quietly, trying to keep Dorian out of the conversation. John thought he heard him asking Rudy what was going on but Rudy didn’t respond to him.

“Just… taking him out for a while.”

It began as a quiet promise, an important goal for John that he would figure out things Dorian wanted to do and make them happen. He did it subtly; nights after work he would ask Dorian to hang out with him rather than go directly back to Rudy’s. Some nights they would go to a restaurant where John would eat and Dorian would tease him. It was near ritualistic; John ordered something, Dorian would sit aside, across, or next to him making comments until both were comfortable enough to just enjoy the company. As days of this went on, the teasing lessened and the two would just talk about anything at all. Random matters, cases, but rarely life related matters. Life was too heavy for them to talk about it in depth but on occasion, it did turn up in conversation.

Times like that, John found out little things he never expected to find in Dorian. Dorian didn’t like looking into mirrors or reflective surfaces because of his eyes. He said the way his eyes looked bothered him which made John laugh aloud; he told him that Dorian’s eyes were one of his best features. Perhaps he had said that too loudly in a bar full of his cop buddies but hey, it was true. Dorian didn’t say much about things he disliked after that and John didn’t press the issue but it did make him wonder why exactly his eyes were a point of distaste for him.

Other things John found out were still impressive. Dorian liked shopping with John, found their car rides to be, as he said, ‘one of the more entertaining aspects of their career’, and thought that the standard DRN uniform was bland. At the time he had said this, Dorian adjusted his Seahawks cap and it made John smile. He wore that dumb cap whenever allowed and John would back him up if someone questioned it.

The current adventure wasn’t exactly what John had in mind but he wasn’t going to argue against it. Earlier in the week, John had mentioned in passing how warm it was going to be and how it was, more than likely, going to be the last warm streak before the fall season. Saying that reminded him of the conversation they had shared about the ocean. John was hardly one to think things through most of the time; his kneejerk reactions had saved him and others numerous of occasions but this time, he stopped before opening his mouth. The idea was still as unplanned as his others but instead of blurting it out and asking Dorian right there in front of the entire precinct where he would have to explain himself, he waited until the two were alone.

“Do you wanna go to the beach? On our day off?” John gave no preamble to this. He didn’t look at him, didn’t skip a beat of their conversation, and tried his best to make it not sound like anything more than a bland question. This didn’t have to be a big deal if he could compose himself long enough. Dorian figured as much because he didn’t miss their natural flow and simply replied “I’d like that” before letting the silence fall. A cautious look revealed the child caught within Dorian; he was smiling as he stared out the window, fingers tapping on his knee in excitement. Mission accomplished.

What John didn’t expect was how socially stupid he would feel afterwards . The beach? With his partner? What the hell would that even entail? There was no way he would wear shorts nor would he go swimming so what would the two even do? Having a couple beers and relaxing on the sand seemed about all he would want to do in such a case but alcohol in the public was illegal and he wasn’t sure if he could stay entertained enough on just soda alone. And that was just him; what would Dorian do? Could Dorian swim or would the water damage his circuitry? Would he clinically analyze everything? Would people stare at him if he did even when it was none of their damn business?

John wasn’t sure and it was too late to change his mind. Dorian was waiting for him and he thrown out all the stops: he had packed a damn lunch, was wearing a t-shirt and jeans on his day off, and wrote some elaborate lies to make this day possible. If this wasn’t going to happen then he would have wasted so much time and energy on nothing and that, more than anything, annoyed him. He even packed some stupid swimming trunks for Dorian if he felt so inclined to swim because John was certain his partner had nothing beyond his uniform.

John should have made a bet. Dorian, dressed as if ready for another rugged day at work, stood outside of Rudy’s with a contained excitement while Rudy waited with him, holding an umbrella over himself. As John pulled up, he rolled down his window and gave Rudy a good laugh before asking the obvious.

“What’s with the umbrella Rudy?” The scientist scoffed at him.

“If you must know, umbrellas are used more than just to protect oneself from the rain. They’re also excellent sun protection and I burn so, so easily. Now I believe you two have somewhere to be?” Rudy ushered Dorian toward the car but Dorian wasn’t bothered; his smile was infectious.

Before driving off, Rudy leaned into the window on John’s side and gave him a stern look or as stern as Rudy could offer.

“He’s to be back by nine o’clock.”

“What? We’re gonna be two guys on the town!” John laughed, giving Dorian a punch on the bicep, “I’ll bring him home in one piece when we’re ready to come home.”

“No, John, I really do need to be back by nine.” Dorian was serious.

“That’s right, you should listen to your partner. I had a power surge last night when I was installing new equipment. We had no power for nearly four hours and Dorian was unable to get a full charge. If he’s out much later than that, you’re likely to have a very grumpy fellow on your hands.” Rudy stood up straight and waved them off.

“You wouldn’t want that, would you John?” Dorian asked when they left the parking lot. John had his arm out the window, waving at Rudy who was disappearing back into the church.

“Why not? Sleepy Dorian is the best Dorian. And this time I’m gonna record it. I upgraded my phone’s hard drive last night when I couldn’t sleep so now I have tons of space to record your mood-swings.” John held up his phone and Dorian took it from him, analyzing it. As he turned it over in his hands, he brought up the important part of what John had just said, the part he hoped would be glossed over.

“Were you having trouble sleeping last night?”

“I think the question here is when don’t I have trouble sleeping? It’s not a big deal; don’t worry about it.”

“I do worry about it, John. Not having the recommended amount of sleep is dangerous for any age and you should be getting at least eight hours a night. Seven may also be suitable if you condition your body long enough. And those in our profession need that rest because of the typical exertion we experience day in and day out.”

“Dorian,” John sighed out his name, “really, it’s not a big deal. Believe it or not, I wasn’t up because I had nightmares or traumatic episodes or anything like that. I was up…” Selling things online to pay for expensive android surgery. “I was up worrying about what to pack for this dumb beach trip. Do you even know how to swim?” John turned the attention to Dorian who now, quickly, lit his face and a smug smile came across his lips.

“I do now. Why were you worried about our trip?”

“It’s your first time to the beach; the least I can do is make it decent.” John’s attentions were on the road ahead of him while he shifted lanes but if he had been able to see the look on Dorian’s face, he would have taken a picture right there. He wasn’t lying though; after he had posted the auction of his guitars, John had fussed with preparations for this ridiculous trip. Planning the best route, figuring out what would make sense to bring with limited space, writing an excuse to Maldonado on why he had city property out from its facility on a scheduled day off that didn’t require maintenance. That last part is what took most of the evening now that he considered it.

“I’m… I’m touched John. Thank you,” Dorian responded softly. John kept his eyes firmly on the road. He knew that tone of voice and the face that followed it. There was no way he would get suckered into looking at him, no way, no how.

John looked anyway. Damn smug robot.

“Yeah, well, don’t do anything embarrassing. I got a reputation to keep up.”

“No you don’t. It’s long since disappeared.” Dorian’s face lit a little and he turned attention to John. “I’m curious; how did you get the approval to do this? I’m sure it’s hardly proper practice to take your robotic partner to the beach. I’m certain Detective Paul’s never taken his MX to the beach.”

“How do you know? They could be beach buddies,” John said with a huge smile, “No, I just told Maldonado you needed training when it came to nautical… stuff. I don’t remember the jargon I used but I promise you it sounded smart. She won’t suspect a thing.”

“So you lied.”

“I embellished the truth. See, you could use some training in the water which could last five minutes for all I care. Everything else we do today is none of their business. But if she asks, make up something impressive.”

“Should I embellish the truth as well? Can I tell her I fought a shark? Or a giant squid? Or how about something more heroic; I diffused a bomb I found twenty feet under water while children swam above me. I was hailed a hero and you, my delusional partner, applauded my efforts. The crowd cheered for me as I exited the water. Haaaaaa… haaaaa…” Dorian had his hands cupping the corners of his mouth, altering the sound to make it resemble actual cheering. John was laughing by this point, covering his mouth with his free hand while he tried navigating the road. It wasn’t easy.

“You tell her whatever you want, pal. It’s your day.” The beach was now visible and a sudden rush of anxiety hit John rather unexpectedly. It was becoming too real now and he wasn’t sure how he would handle it.

“Your pulse has quickened. You… you don’t wanna do this, do you?” Robots should never sound so disappointed, so let down but Dorian did at that moment. Personal discomfort aside, John wouldn’t let this be ruined for him.

“Don’t. I’m here, you’re here, and I have a nice lunch packed and it’s eighty degrees on our day off. We’re doing this.” John parked to prove his point but neither left the vehicle. A web of light trailed across Dorian’s cheek and the automatic door locks clicked into locked. John exhaled through his nose, annoyed.

“If you’re doing something you don’t want to do, I want no part of it.”

“I just don’t want to be around a lot of people. That’s all. Unlock the door.” John lifted the lock but Dorian shut it down again. “Dorian, I swear to God…”

“I appreciate you doing this. It’s kind of you and more than I’d ever expect a human to do for… for a synthetic,” he said the word plainly since he had to hide the disgust of it for sake of the conversation, “but look, man, if you’re not happy with it, don’t do it. It’s not worth the discomfort you must be feeling. I am aware of your social anxiety as well as-“

“Don’t get clinical on me. I’m gonna say this once and only once so you better record this. We’re at the beach. Get your ass out of the car. Run on the sand. Jump in the ocean. Do what you want to do. This isn’t about me. And listen very closely when I say this ‘cause I’m not saying it again. I. Did. This. For. You. Unlock the doors.” The two held each other’s stare for a long moment until the soft click of the door’s latch sounded its release. Dorian smiled and was outside before John’s seatbelt was undone. A deep breath soothed his nerves enough to follow.

The thing about sunglasses, John learned over the years, is that they were small shields from other people. Eye contact was the key indicator for speech but if no one could see your eyes, there was no connection and John was free to be without contact for as long as he wished. Sunny days were a godsend for this exact reason. He scrutinized every person who passed by in peace and secrecy while most took notice of Dorian. Children in swim suits glanced at him, adults found him out of place. John shrugged this off and together they made their way to the edge of sand, close to the water.

“Here?” John asked but Dorian was already undoing his jacket. John’s curiosity got the better of him as Dorian folded the sleeves against the chest of his jacket.

“Ok, today is going to be one of those days where I ask a lot of stupid, random questions.”

“And that is different from any other day because…?” John chose to ignore him.

“Do you have… I don’t know, skin below your neck?” He motioned with his hand from his clavicle down to his stomach. Dorian continued looking at him, bemused at the question.

“I assume you’re asking if I have a constructed torso. Well as you can see,” Dorian hiked the hem of his shirt up high, resting just beneath his chin, “I am constructed in much the same way I’d assume you are.”

Several questions came into John’s head all at once and, to his great surprise, the most embarrassing of them did not come out of his mouth. Dorian’s physique included many aspects that John questioned their purpose or reason but the biggest one, the vocal one, was at least understandable.

“Why do you have a belly button?” ‘ _Why were you designed to have that light smattering of chest hair? How come they endowed you with such statuesque pecs and abs? Are nipples really necessary?’_ But the main thought that popped into John’s head and, luckily, not out of his mouth was _‘Damn.’_ Dorian looked down at his stomach and touched the area near the small indent.

“I dunno. Probably the same reason they designed me with all these other aesthetic, pointless features: to make me look more human. I was intended to interact with humans and be as close to them as I could get, both emotionally and physically. Does it bother you?” Dorian’s hand flattened against his stomach, covering the indent. John couldn’t believe this; he was witnessing a self-conscious robot. This day couldn’t get any more interesting.

“No. I didn’t know you had skin there. I thought, I dunno, from the neck down it was all circuits and stuff. Don’t ask me why I thought that.” John was busying himself by laying down blankets and not looking at Dorian now that he was stripping the shirt off completely. He was impressed by his design and that was it; that’s all he would allow himself to admit. A man could be impressed by things like that, by people like that, so now as not a time for John to fall into an existential life crisis. Yet it didn’t help that the image of Dorian’s torso kept jumping into the forefront of his mind.

“Your heart rate changed again, John.” John groaned and dropped everything on the sand. He was doing a shitty job of setting it up anyway. He spun around and pointed a finger at Dorian, thankful the heat explained his reddened face and his sunglasses hid his eyes. He was blushing and his eyes would betray him once again.

“Quit monitoring my heart rate and don’t analyze my pulse anymore. Just… ask me if something’s wrong. It’s not fair that you can… scan me like that and think something’s up just because of my biology.” This trip was proving more antagonizing than he wanted it to be. Couldn’t Dorian go and do something aquatic for a while? Wasn’t that the whole reason why they were there to begin with? There was no reason for this confrontation but John, after a moment’s pause between the two, realized he wasn’t being the most friendly and reasonable of people.

Dorian took the time to consider what John said as he wrung his shirt in his hands. A light flickered along the side of his face and he nodded to himself, looking up at John, face apologetic and sincere.

“I’m sorry. I can see why that would be infuriating. I do that because if I ask, I worry you won’t tell me. I know it’s a guy thing; sharing emotions and whatever isn’t something you do. Emotions are all I have so… Anyway, sometimes stating the facts gives better results. Alright, starting new. Are you ok, John?”

Out of spite, John didn’t want to answer. He did because of kindness and because he did understand. Dorian was right; all he had was emotions. Be it because of his programming or who he was, emotions to his partner were like breathing to him. He had to have them, he had to use them; otherwise, there was no him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting what I saw. Meaning I… Ugh. Look,” he cleared his throat and dug into the duffel he had brought along, “I’ve got some trunks in here somewhere. Why don’t you go change and swim or something? That’s why we’re here, right?” John ended with a smile to lighten the mood and tossed the newly found trunks to Dorian. He prayed they would fit or at least cover him decently for the public. Before Dorian could thank him or say anything else, John planted himself flat against the sand, hands behind his head and legs crossed. He started toeing off his shoes for good measure.

“Aren’t you going to swim?”

“Nope. I noticed today how stupidly pale I’ve gotten so I’m gonna lay here, soak up some sun, and ignore every single phone call I get.” He was going to do just that if Dorian would get out of his sunlight but his partner stood there moments too long for comfort. John opened his eyes but made no motion of it; he watched Dorian through his glasses as he looked down on John. Once his quiet analysis was done, Dorian made one more statement.

“No one will stare, you know.” John sat up and pulled his glasses up to give Dorian the appropriate stare. No more hiding behind glasses for this one.

“What?”

“I said, no one will stare. You don’t have to limit yourself based on aspects that are really no one else’s business to begin with.” Dorian left it at that. He didn’t need to say specifically what he meant because John knew. He knew Dorian wasn’t meaning anything harsh or stern, pitying or remorseful with what he said because he was right. John was self-conscious too but he wasn’t going to do anything about that now.

“Don’t electrocute anyone out there, alright?” John muttered before laying back down and replacing his glasses over his eyes.

***

John didn’t open his eyes until much later; not until a shadow was cast over him and then the blanket shifted beside him. John looked upward to see the edge of an umbrella casting the shadow while the sun directly above still hit his denim clad legs. He hadn’t brought an umbrella along with them but perhaps someone took pity on him and placed one over him. The sky was turning a slight purple beyond the blue and white trim of the umbrella and it was still a very lovely skyline, city in the distance and a few drones hovering back toward the station. Turning his head gave him an astonishing view as well.

Dorian was lying next to him, eyes closed and smiling with water remaining in his hair and drops yet evaporated dotted over his face and chest. John watched him silently, noticing small details as he always did in quiet, peaceful moments like this. Dorian’s chest did not elevate and fall as a human’s did but his face was so animated that it was strange to think he didn’t need to breath. His eyes moved behind his eyelids much like a human’s; John wondered if he could review things he saw like a video or if he only saw numbers. When Dorian opened his eyes, his irises contracted from the sudden light and that made John smile.

“I’m sorry John; did I wake you?”

“Yeah but that’s ok. How long was I out for?”

“One hour, fifteen minutes. Give or take.”

“Were you swimming for that long?” John removed his glasses and rubbed his cheeks. They felt tight and sore; they were probably burned. If that was the worst that happened to him today, he’d consider himself lucky.

“Close. You know, it’s an incredible feeling; being almost weightless like that. I’ve never experienced anything like that.” Dorian kept his stare towards the ocean, wondrous and gleeful. As he watched him, John’s hand ghosted over to his right side where his phone was and feeling the slick surface and reminded him of its presence. Taking it in his hand, he sat up a little.

“Hey. Come here.” Dorian sat up and John grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close. It was a quick grab but not a gruff one. A tug in the right direction would be the best way to describe it. Confused, Dorian looked at him and stiffened. John held his phone away at arm’s length and he stared at it, smiling.

“C’mon. Lookit the camera and smile.” He instructed. Dorian nervously obeyed and a second later, a flash caught the moment. The phone showed an interesting picture: John was pretty much picture perfect except for the flash on his glasses but Dorian looked a mix of shocked and dumbfounded. It made John laugh and Dorian to reach for the phone.

“No, John, delete that! I look ridiculous!”

“No way, pal! See, these kinds of pictures are what memories are made of! You gotta keep the good ones and the dumb ones too! You don’t look that bad! And, seriously, is this the first picture you’ve ever smiled for? You look like a deer caught in headlights.” At that point, Dorian shrugged his shirt back on and gave John a dirty glare. He knew he had said the wrong thing somewhere in that jumble of words.

“Yeah, actually it was the first picture ever taken of me aside from my profile image for the department. At least, it’s the only one I can remember. Can we please take a better photo? One that doesn’t make me look like a creature about to get ran over in on-coming traffic?” John laughed at the description and put an arm around him again. Gentle, careful. Trusting. This time, Dorian followed his action and put an equally caring arm around his shoulder.

“Ok. On three. One…” John began.

“Two.” Added Dorian.

“Three.” Both said together, smiled together, and took a pretty decent picture together. Dorian approved of it, saying it felt more natural this way. While holding his phone, the circuits in Dorian’s thumb shined and John watched him, confused. Once done, he handed the phone back to its owner and smiled a smug but content smiled.

“I downloaded that. For myself.”

The drive back was loud and energetic; Dorian’s charge was beginning to border on the low side so he was rather comical under such a situation. John wondered how he would act with a low charge when he wasn’t distressed or upset and it, to John’s joy, was much like if the robot were slightly buzzed on a great drink. Dorian picked the music for the duration of the ride and sang along to it, vibrant with his shoulders dancing under the seatbelt. John couldn’t help but oblige him when asked to sing back up to Bohemian Rhapsody even if there was no way his voice could get that high. He tried though and begged Dorian to delete any recording of that he may have gotten for no one needed to hear him fail so miserably.

As the sun began setting, John idled in the parking lot of Rudy’s church while Dorian leaned his head into the rolled down driver’s side window, smiling wide and wearing his Seahawks cap.

“I gotta admit John, I didn’t know what I was expecting from today. I’m glad it happened though. I’m glad it happened the way it did.”

“Yeah, me too. Sad that my first successful date in months was with my own partner. Go figure, huh?” John chuckled, glancing upwards. Dorian only offered a slight smile but made no eye contact. Something was on his mind; John had seen that look many times before but, as all the times before, he made no comment on it. Maybe he should have. Dorian may have only been a machine but something was going on beyond those eyes and it seemed shameful to not pick the brain for its contents. He should do that sometime; they were partners after all.

“I’ll pick you up for our shift tomorrow,” John said only as a means to change the topic since it was a blanket statement; of course he would pick him up for his sift tomorrow but the silence was too heavy for them, “so, uh, get charged. Tell Rudy I said hi. I’ll call him or something later.” His partner nodded, granting him one more glance.

“Thank you John. For today.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dorian started to lean in a little and John watched his face curiously but as quickly as the lean in was, he moved back. To the untrained eye it would look like Dorian was regaining his balance from off his elbows from the side of the car and that was what John left it at. He was thankful Dorian didn’t acknowledge his heart rate again because he wouldn’t have a decent excuse for it this time around.

He waved to his partner before pulling out of the parking lot but stuck around long enough to make sure he made it inside safely. Perhaps it was old fashioned to do such a thing and perhaps it was even silly to do it but John wanted to be sure: wanted to be sure Dorian wouldn’t disappear before getting home and wanted to be sure he would be received by someone inside. A brief wave of jealousy came over him but it was replaced quickly by yearning. He said he liked living alone, hadn’t he? No strangers in his trophy room but no one to make sure he made it home safe. Such a feeling was weighted on him as he drove home, knowing that when he locked the door of his car and opened the door of his home, no one would be waiting to make sure he got inside safely.

Dorian had been keen on moving in with him, verbally mentioning it and planning how it would work between them. Instead, he handed him over to Rudy which he thought was a good idea at the time. Rudy was lonely and if Dorian needed any kind of maintenance or mechanical service that was beyond John’s spectrum of understanding, the right man was right there to help. But now, looking back on the decision he and Sandra had bounced off one another, he felt like he was missing out on something, something special. What, exactly, it was eluded him but it was a definite loss for him and he didn’t even have something there to begin with. Ultimately and most importantly, Dorian had gotten his wish of new surroundings away from the MXs and that’s what mattered. He would not be selfish after making his decision because it was not his place to harbor such feelings.

Walking into his home didn’t feel much better with that thought. Turning on the lights to make it seem less empty didn’t help either. He thought about calling someone, anyone, for some kind of company to help ebb the loneliness he had but no one on his phone fit the description of what he was looking for. Sandra had the evening shift. Valerie was last-ditch at best. Richard... he was a home-body when he wasn’t at work. No one seemed to work. In fact, no one had called him at all today because the only one who bothered him on his days off was the one he spent his day off with. He didn’t even get a text from Valerie or a voicemail from Sandra. It was quiet on his phone and quiet in his home. How could he say he preferred this?

Phone in hand, John remained stationary in the silent kitchen. His thumb ran across the face and selected his photos. He had only a few since he made it a habit of uploading them onto his computer for the sake of storage but the ones from today were easily accessed. The surprise one made him laugh all over again while the second made him smile. John used to think people were strange to smile at their mobile phones; like they had some obscene secret hiding from the rest of the world. Seeing the picture of he and Dorian, arms around each other’s shoulders and smiling under a beach umbrella which John never discovered its origin, made him understand those secret smiles. This was a photo he couldn’t show anyone but it was special to him, to Dorian. A few flicks of his thumb made it his wallpaper.

He wouldn’t let memories like this go away so easily.


End file.
